


Caught in a Whirlpool

by thegirlwhoknits



Series: We Learned the Sea [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhoknits/pseuds/thegirlwhoknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter gets some advice on dealing with his feelings for Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in a Whirlpool

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Hypothetical reference to drug overdose. Also this chapter is a tiny bit more sexually graphic, though we haven't gotten to the really good bits yet! Comments warm my heart and keep me going through the long, dark work-week! You can also [follow me on Tumblr.](http://bitchinachinashop.tumblr.com/)

Peter slid onto a stool in the hotel bar and ordered a wolfsbane-infused scotch.  He wasn’t aiming to get drunk—that would definitely set a bad example on a trip that was supposed to be about getting Stiles clean—but he did need a little breathing room and a drink would help him relax a bit. He hoped.

He swirled the amber liquid around in the glass, suddenly wishing he’d ordered something that wasn’t the color of Stiles’s eyes.  He noticed someone sit down next to him, but didn’t look up; hopefully whoever it was would get the message and leave him alone.

“Trouble with your mate?” The soft voice belonged to Holly, one of the resort’s owners. Peter reluctantly raised his head to meet her gaze.

“What gave it away?” he asked tiredly.

“Well, you’re down here by yourself, and you’re staring into that drink like you’re going to drown in it,” Holly pointed out.  “Would you like to talk about it?  I may be retired, but I’m still pretty good at listening.”

Peter sighed.  He wasn’t normally the type to ask for advice from anyone, but he and Holly had been friends a long time, and he honestly had no idea what to do in this situation.

“I don’t know if there’s anything anyone can do.  Stiles, my mate…  Well, first of all, he doesn’t know he’s my mate.  And he’s human, and young.  He’s not in love with me, and I’m afraid he may never feel the same way.”  The last part felt ripped out of him; Peter hated feeling vulnerable or helpless.  It was extremely uncomfortable.

Holly clicked her tongue thoughtfully as she gestured to the bartender for a bottle of water.  “Well, first of all, if he’s not in love with you yet, he’s well on his way.  I’ve seen you interact quite a bit over the past few days, and he clearly trusts you and values your opinion.  And, in return, you really listen to him and give his thoughts weight.  I have a feeling there are not a lot of people in his life who do that.

“And on some level, he does know he’s your mate.  The mating pull is strong magic, and while it doesn’t affect ordinary humans as strongly as werewolves, for Emissaries the effect can be even stronger than it is for weres, because they are so much more attuned to their magic.  He’s probably been feeling the pull for a while, and just didn’t know how to interpret it. Does he spend more time around you than the rest of the pack?”

“Well, yes, but that’s because we research…” Peter trailed off, looking thoughtful.  Now that Holly had called his attention to it, he realized that he and Stiles seemed to gravitate toward each other even when the circumstances didn’t require it.  When the pack split up in battle, Stiles worked most seamlessly with Peter, even though technically any of the other weres could do the same things.  And when he was in trouble, it was Peter that Stiles called out for, when it should have made more sense for him to call to Scott, or even Derek.   “I suppose we do, actually.”

She nodded.  “My advice would be to just give him some time to sort things out, without pressing the issue.” She held up a hand against his protest. “I know you wouldn’t.  But Peter? Whatever you do, _don’t_ do something ridiculous like ‘giving him space.’”

He looked at her curiously. “Why not? Isn’t that what one’s supposed to do in these situations?”

“Stiles is very unstable right now, and it’s my understanding that he became that way because he feels he’s only important to people when he’s being ‘useful,’” she explained. “If he feels you’ve abandoned him now, when he’s weak and has failed to reciprocate your feelings, it may send him into an even deeper spiral, one even his mate might not be able to pull him out of.”

Peter felt himself go pale as visions of Stiles lying motionless on his bathroom floor after overdosing flashed through his head.  He gulped the remains of his drink in one swallow and stood, placing some money on the bar.  “I understand,” he told Holly.  “Thank you for your advice.”

“It’s no problem.” She smiled.  “All I ask is that you invite me and Dale to the mating celebration!”

He gave her a half-smile and nodded. Despite her encouraging words, he still had doubts.  Still, she was right; there was nothing to do but be patient, and be there for Stiles. No matter how much it hurt.

 

Stiles was asleep when he got back to the room, starfished over the covers with his clothes still on.  Peter clamped down on a momentary twinge of panic, remembering that Stiles couldn’t possibly have access to more than a couple of aspirin way out here, and anyway he’d only been downstairs a short time.  The boy’s breathing and heartbeat were steady, and Peter crept across the room quietly, not wanting to wake him.  He pried Stiles’s cellphone out of his hand and checked the recent calls to make sure the teen had made his evening call to the Sheriff.  He had. He put the phone on the nightstand and went to grab some spare blankets from the closet.

After putting one over Stiles, he hesitated.  He wanted nothing more than to lay down next to his mate, wrap his arms around him and bury his nose in that wayward brown hair.  But even though Holly had warned him about not keeping his distance, that seemed like the sort of thing they should talk about first. He had no idea what Stiles’s comfort level might be, now that he knew how the older werewolf felt about him.

Reluctantly, he carried the other blanket over to the couch. Luckily it was a sofa bed, and a fairly comfortable one. Ten minutes later, he was staring at the ceiling, feeling cold and empty with his mate only a few feet away.

 

Peter’s wolf registered the feeling of warmth and comfort the next morning before his conscious mind was fully awake.  He opened his eyes to Stiles, now dressed in a t-shirt and sleep pants, pressed against his side with an arm draped heavily over Peter’s chest.  A thin strand of drool connected the corner of his mouth with the shoulder of Peter’s shirt.  It was probably a measure of how far gone he was that Peter found it adorable.

Stiles snuffled in his sleep and gripped the werewolf tighter when he gingerly tried to move away. “Stop wriggling,” he muttered sleepily.

He gave up, lying back against the pillows again and resigning himself to waiting until his bed partner was fully awake.

As it happened, that didn’t take as long as he feared. With a series of irritated noises, Stiles seemed to struggle to wakefulness, finally lifting his head and propping it on Peter’s chest.  He looked slightly guiltily at the older man.

“Sorry about this,” he said. “I woke up from a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I guess I’ve gotten too used to having someone nearby.”

Peter smiled down at him, trying to keep the affection out of his look and, judging by the flush that spread across Stiles’s face, failing miserably.  “It’s all right,” he said.  “I do have to get up soon, though. Nature calls.”

Stiles blushed harder and scrambled to his feet hastily. “Yeah, um, of course. I’ll just…” He flailed a bit, searching for a plausible course of action.  “Order breakfast!” he said finally. “Eggs Benedict, right?”

“Right,” Peter confirmed, struggling to contain a smirk as he headed to the bathroom.

 

Peter leaned back against the wall of the shower, finally allowing himself to release the iron grip on his self-control.  To have his mate within such easy reach, to know that he was willing…it was driving his wolf crazy.  He palmed his dick, letting out a low moan that he hoped Stiles’s human hearing wasn’t sensitive enough to pick up on.  The thought of the teen overhearing him made him even harder, though, and he stroked himself faster, imagining Stiles’s beautiful, clever fingers joining his own.

The memory of the boy’s mouth on his, his eager young hips thrusting forward, made Peter pant shamelessly.  He’d tasted so perfect, the scent of his arousal so heady and strong.  He cursed himself momentarily for letting the opportunity slip by; he could have just keep his mouth shut, taken what he could get.

But even in the midst of his arousal Peter knew that wasn’t an option. It wasn’t in his nature not to pursue something he wanted with everything he had;  especially something he wanted as badly as Stiles.  Eventually, he would have his mate, and it would feel so good to sink into that slim, agile body, to draw out all the sounds that no one else had ever gotten to hear, or ever would.  To finally give the mating bite he’d offered to Stiles at the beginning, and know he was his forever…

He came with a yelp that Stiles would definitely hear in the other room, and sagged against the wall. The afterglow of his orgasm mixed with the now-familiar hollowness of having his mate just out of reach.


End file.
